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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544253">Around Again</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDreams/pseuds/IndigoDreams'>IndigoDreams</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Groundhog Day, Time Loop, Time Travel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:22:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26544253</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndigoDreams/pseuds/IndigoDreams</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of season 8, Sandor Clegane wakes up in the Red Keep surrounded by familiar faces. Thinking he is in one of the seven hells, Sandor decides to enjoy it. </p><p>Time loop. </p><p>More tags to be added as the story progresses.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sandor Clegane &amp; Arya Stark, Sandor Clegane &amp; Sansa Stark, Sandor Clegane/Sansa Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>312</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>
<p>               Sandor stood panting, in excruciating pain, and in a moment of clarity, knew exactly what he had to do. He turned towards the thing that had once been his monster of a brother, and charged, sending them both off the side of the tower.</p>
<p>               As he plummeted to the fiery ruins covering the ground below, he felt relief knowing he had finally killed his brother, but also a sadness. Had he not just told the Stark girl that her revenge was not worth her death? He thought to himself of all the things being left unfinished in a split second, and briefly mourned, before it all went black.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               He woke suddenly, his head pounding something fierce. It felt like a hangover, yet he had not drunk a sip since Winterfell. Sandor sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked up.</p>
<p>               <em>What it the seven hells? </em>He thought, glancing around the room. <em>Ah, maybe where in the seven hells is more correct.</em></p>
<p>               He was in his old room in the Red Keep, the one where he was still Joffrey’s dog. He laughed to himself. He had to hand it to the gods, they sure knew how to damn a man. His old position with a raging hangover, he could not think of something more appropriate for himself if he tried.</p>
<p>               <em>Well, there is one thing that could make this worse</em> he shuddered to himself, thinking of all the times the little bird was tortured here. He considered this for a moment and decided to get up and check. If there was a version of Sansa Stark in this hell being tortured, he knew he would now do anything to stop it, even if she was not necessarily real. At least it would give him something to do. What are you even supposed to <em>do</em> in hell anyways?</p>
<p>               Sandor put on his armour that he saw was in the spot he used to keep it and left the room. As he walked through the halls, he noticed that everything looked the exact same as it had before, a massive difference from the landscape in which he fought the demon that was his brother. Sandor turned a corner, and almost ran into a man in a white cloak.</p>
<p>               “Watch where you are walking, Hound!”, a very much alive Meryn Trant hissed. Sandor smiled to himself, <em>oh, this is going to be fun.</em></p>
<p>               Sandor pulled his sword out, holding it to Trant’s throat, and just smiled. Trant’s face turned white, horrified by both the sword and smile, and he sputtered, “what are you doing?”.</p>
<p>               “What I should have done a long time ago”, Sandor said, sliding his blade clean through the idiot’s throat, and smiling all the while. <em>Hey, maybe this whole seven hells thing isn’t too bad after all. I could do this all day and not be bored.</em> He took his sword out of Trant’s dying body and cleaned it on his white cloak before putting it away. Sandor hopped over Trant, feeling lighter than he had in years, and continued down the hall.</p>
<p>He headed towards the training yard, hoping to come across more men who he had unfinished business with. So what if it wasn’t real? He would probably be tortured for eternity soon, better make the best use of wherever he was to grab a bit of enjoyment before it was too late. He almost felt like whistling a tune.</p>
<p>              <em>Why not then? </em>He laughed to himself, and decided to start whistling. As predicted, servants and nobles alike passed as far away from him as they could in the hall, some running away with looks of horror on their face. <em>All from me whistling? That is a tad dramatic.</em></p>
<p>               He continued on exploring the keep for half an hour, before he heard footsteps rushing up behind him.</p>
<p>               “Hound! I have had three servants come to me and s-why are you covered in blood?” a very young-looking Jaime Lannister demanded. This Jaime was clearly the version of himself before he became a better man, well before he decided to go crawling back to Cersei’s cunt. <em>What an ass.</em></p>
<p>               “Oh, Trant must have gotten some of his blood on me when I sliced through his throat” Sandor said, surprised that he did not notice the amount of blood on him before now. Does he have to wash himself and his armour in this hell? That is a bit annoying, but not exactly tortuous.</p>
<p>               Jaime paled, “that was you? Why? You better have a good reason, or they will have your head for this”.</p>
<p>               “I did it for revenge for those he has hurt, and because I felt like it. I figured if I can do whatever I want here, why not enjoy it? He hurt a lot of people, I felt like killing the cunt, now he’s dead and I feel better than I have in a while. I don’t fully understand this hell I am in, but it is quite interesting. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Sandor said, putting his hands on Lannister’s shoulders and moving the man to the side and out of his way. Lannister let him, staring on in shock, before rushing down the hall in the opposite direction, his cloak billowing behind him.</p>
<p>               Sandor continued down the hall, heading towards the yard to find some water to wash the blood off with. Now that he noticed it, he could feel the stickiness moving through his clothes to his skin, and it had started to smell.</p>
<p>               He washed off in a trough outside, just trying to get most of the blood off, planning what he would do next. He turned around, just as men filled the yard, surrounding him. To his surprise, King Robert stood before him, surrounded completely by armed men.</p>
<p>               “Hound! Explain yourself! Why did you kill Ser Meryn?”, the fat king called out.</p>
<p>               Sandor shrugged. “I already told Lannister, for revenge, but also because I felt like it. Wow, you really are fatter than I remembered, and that’s saying something. You look out of breath from just having to stand, what kind of king can’t even do that? I guess one that has been cuckholded by the Queen’s brother. What kind of cunt –“ Sandor stopped abruptly, looking down at the sword sticking out of his chest. He glanced behind him, noticing that Lannister had stabbed him through the back.</p>
<p>               Sandor tried to insult him, something about fucking his sister, but blood came out of his mouth instead of words, and slowly, everything turned black.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               He woke suddenly, his head pounding something fierce. He glanced around the room and laughed to himself. <em>Well, besides the whole pain from dying, this is rather fun.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is my first fan fic, let me know if you think I should keep going/if there is anything I can improve on. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor rolled out of bed and put on his armour, feeling younger and more energetic than he had in years.</p>
<p>               <em>I think I’ll find Joffrey for some revenge today, </em>he thought, strutting through the castle halls.</p>
<p>               “Good morning!” he all but shouted at a startled Renly Baratheon, “and how are you on this fine day?”</p>
<p>               Renly looked at him like he had a couple screws loose, which perhaps he did, and responded, “what has gotten into you this morning?”. Then a look of understanding crossed his face, “ah, did you find a good whore last night? You’ll have to let me know where you found them if they left the Hound in this state.”</p>
<p>               Sandor barked a laugh, “like you would have any interest in a whore, that’s rich. At least, not a woman, hm? Not that it matters to me, it’s not like I am in a position to judge. Well, I’m off to go find and murder Joffrey, see you. Maybe.”</p>
<p>               Renly began to sputter again, but Sandor just continued on his way. <em>Most likely he will just think I am joking about that last bit anyways, not that it matters.</em></p>
<p>               As he was walking down a staircase, he heard a whiny, high pitched voice, whinging about how unfair something was, and that they were the Crown Prince. Sandor walked around the corner, and saw a much younger Joffrey Baratheon complaining to an increasingly annoyed but hiding it Cersei Lannister. He leaned up against the wall and crossed his arms, just watching them, with a mild look of amusement on his face. He was hoping to scare them a bit, but unsurprisingly, they did not even notice their loyal dog was there.</p>
<p>               “But mother, I am the Crown Prince, I should be able to! I can do whatever I want!” Joffrey shouted, and Sandor just rolled his eyes. He did not appear to be the monster that he would become, but Sandor had his memories to remind him of what the cunt had to pay for. He thought of all the injustices suffered by the little bird, all the taunts and torments, and drew his sword from its scabbard. He approached the Prince from behind, and similar to Trant, shoved his blade clean through the little shit’s throat. He had debated tormenting him in return for what Joffrey had done, but the whinging was becoming unbearable. <em>How I put up with that for years on end, I have no idea.</em></p>
<p>               Of course, the second Joffrey was silenced, Cersei let out an ear-piercing wail, and grabbed her son, trying desperately to stop the bleeding. Sandor snorted, “fat lot of good that will do”.</p>
<p>               Cersei turned towards Sandor, after giving up on saving Joffrey, with a look on her face that he had never seen before. It was an unholy mix of rage, grief, and betrayal.</p>
<p>               Cersei screeched, “Why? Why would you do this to him? You were supposed to protect him! After all our family has done for you, how could you?”. She continued berating him, and Sandor had to admit she had a point. From her point of view, he suddenly decided to kill her son, after being her sworn shield for years, and then Joffrey’s. It actually was beginning to make him feel slightly guilty, and wasn’t that strange?</p>
<p>               “Look, I have this chance to make everyone pay for what they have done in life. The little shit deserved it, and you would agree if you saw some of the things he did. He-“ Sandor was cut off by Cersei, who screeched and launched herself at him, clawing at his face like the lioness she was. Sandor swore, trying to hold her off, but she was relentless, scratching at his eyes until he felt blood pouring out of them. With a final wail, he felt a knife slam into his own throat repeatedly, and as he coughed and sputtered, trying to get one last breath, everything went black.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               Sandor woke up back in his room, groaning from the renewed hangover. <em>This hangover every time I wake up is getting old quickly, </em>he thought to himself, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He felt slightly guilty for killing the little shit, and wasn’t that strange? Both Cersei and Joffrey deserved what he just did, and it wasn’t like it was actually them in the first place. So why did Sandor feel like this?</p>
<p>               <em>Well, I could go harass a Septon, that could be fun,</em> he decided, swinging himself out of bed and towards the door. Maybe a Septon could better explain his predicament to him. Sandor had a creeping feeling that all was not as it appeared, and while he did not think any Septon in Kings Landing was worth a shit to take, he figured he might be able to scare some knowledge out of one of them. It’s not like Sandor had any idea how any of this hells stuff worked, he never bothered to pay attention to most Septons. Even when Sandor did for a brief period, that was because Ray actually sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and the whole saving his life thing helped.</p>
<p>               Sandor made his way out into the city and headed towards a Sept. He didn’t go to the Great Sept of Baelor, as the current High Septon was a fucking idiot. But maybe one at a smaller Sept could help.</p>
<p>               He burst through the front door, and headed towards the Septon, who was standing near the statue of the Stranger. He was an older man, and looked up towards Sandor as he walked towards him. “What can I help you with?” he said, and Sandor had to hand it to him, he was quite good at hiding the whole cowering in fear before the Hound bit.</p>
<p>               “Well, I have a bit of an issue that you may be able to better explain. You see, I died ridding the world of my brother, who wasn’t actually my brother anymore, more of a demon or monster than anything. The next moment, I wake up in one of the hells, where everything is like how it was years ago, when I was still Joffrey’s dog, but before the fat King decided to go fetch the Starks and basically ruin their lives. I can kill and insult them all, which is fun, and each time I die I just wake up again where I started. But last time, I killed Joffrey, thinking it would feel incredible after all the harm he did to, well, the entirety of Westeros, and yet I didn’t feel that great. So, what gives? How does this hell thing work?”</p>
<p>               The Septon just stared at Sandor with wide eyes, and after a moment, replied, “Son, I do not know what to tell you, but I think you may be unwell. You are not in one of the seven hells, and appear to be very much alive to me. What you speak of sounds like the ramblings of Northern savages who are tree worshipers, and believe that children of the forest and the Others exist. Are you sure you did not just have too much to drink last night and simply dreamt it all? What you speak of does not make sense, and is not how the seven hells work.”</p>
<p>               Sandor blinked back at the Septon, and then snorted and turned around to leave. “Whatever you say, I think you just do not want to believe you could possibly be in one of the seven hells. Like your gods would care about you, and you would be good enough in their eyes to not be sent to the hells, dumb cunt” Sandor called over his shoulder.</p>
<p>               <em>He made a couple interesting points though</em>, Sandor thought, thinking over the conversation. <em>Him denying it being hell could simply be the gods trying to confuse me, or this all could truly be the work of the Old Gods. </em>And wouldn’t that be something? Although, the more Sandor thought of it, the more it made sense. Sandor had seen more than he could explain in his life and knew the children of the forest existed. The Others definitely existed; the Battle of Winterfell would be forever ingrained in his head, and being surrounded by them north of the wall had not exactly been a walk in the park either.</p>
<p>               Sandor considered his options, and while it would be fun to continue to mess with people, he wanted to figure out how and why he was here now, and who did it. After that, he decided, he would go back to his fun. But first he wanted answers.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor was a man on a mission, storming towards the Red Keep and heading towards the godswood. If he intentionally body slammed several soldiers and knights that he knew were cunts out of the way when it really was not necessary, well that was his business. Plus, watching that one knight who he knew was purposefully too rough with whores face plant into horse shit? Hilarious.</p>
<p>               He entered the godswood, and it brought back memories of the little bird in this exact spot, hiding out from her tormentors. <em>Well, this certainly lessens my feelings of guilt from killing Joffrey, the spoiled little bitch, </em>he thought happily. Maybe he should kill him again, just to test it, see if he still felt that small bit of guilt well up. Maybe three times to be sure. And a fourth if he has time. A fifth for fun.</p>
<p>               Sandor shook his head and got back on task. The Red Keep’s godswood did not have an actual weirwood tree, so he headed towards the tree that the little bird used to pray before. He looked at it, head cocked to the side, and realized he didn’t really have a plan besides to storm to the godswood. He tilted his head to one side, then the other, while making what he thought was direct eye contact with the tree. When that did nothing, he waved his hands in front of it, as if trying to get its attention.</p>
<p>               “Hello? Tree? I have questions and I demand answers!” Sandor all but shouted at the tree. The tree, being a tree, did not respond.</p>
<p>               Sandor then had the brilliant idea of kneeling in front of the tree like Sansa used to. Maybe the tree was demanding respect. He tried again. “Hello, tree, I, with the utmost respect, ask you politely and without yelling, to answer my questions. Am I in a hell created by the Old Gods? Or some sort of in between deal? What is happening here?”</p>
<p>               Sandor waited, and after a couple minutes of nothing happening, stood up furiously. “Well fuck you too tree, you aren’t even a real weirwood, what would you even know!” he yelled, before beginning to pace angrily.</p>
<p>               He either needed a real weirwood tree than actually worked like the Northerners said it did, or to talk to someone knowledgeable in this sort of thing. It’s not like King’s Landing had a human he could speak to about the Old Gods, unless he found someone who used to live in the North, and who’s to say they would know anything useful? No, he needed an expert, and most likely the only place to find one was in the North.</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed, realizing that in order to get the answers he wanted, he would probably have to blend in for a bit, at least until he got to Winterfell and he got his questions answered. That meant putting up with all these annoying cunts without snapping at and/or killing them. It also meant taking on his old Hound persona, and doing everything the Lannisters tell him to do. He swore a lifetime ago that he was his own dog now, and he would have no master. But it was a means to an end, and if he got the answers he wanted, he could go back to doing whatever he wanted.</p>
<p>               He headed back into the Red Keep, and noticed everyone was looking at him funny. He then realized that he had pushed over more cunts than he could count, as well as just had a screaming match with a tree. Which he did win, by the way. However, this meant no one in this version of hell would trust him if he just went back to being himself, meaning he had to go and get himself killed to do a reset.</p>
<p>               <em>Oh no, that’s horrible, I’ll have to taunt someone enough that they’ll want to kill me, however will I do it? </em>Sandor snarked to himself, laughing. This was the part he seemed to actually have down pat.</p>
<p>               Sandor walked through the halls, looking for a good target. He wanted someone who he had not messed with or killed yet, but was equally deserving of it. The Red Keep had many different monsters within its walls, so he figured it wouldn’t take him that long to track someone down.</p>
<p>               He headed out towards the parapets lining the walls, and looked out at the water. It was actually a really nice view for such a shit city. He remembered coming across the little bird up here, and got lost momentarily in his memories of her.</p>
<p>               A man sidled up beside him in his peripheral vision, and Sandor felt the urge to cackle evilly. <em>Perfect.</em></p>
<p>                “I’ve heard some interesting rumblings today, about a certain Hound being more irritable than usual, and doing things one may label as ‘unhinged’. May I inquire as to why that is?” Littlefinger asked, looking fucking smarmy as he did. Well, actually he looked innocent, but Sandor now knew what he hid behind his trusting demeanor.  </p>
<p>               He turned towards the dumb fuck. “So, you heard I was acting ‘unhinged’, as you say, and decided to come and confront me?” Sandor asked, raising a lone eyebrow at the man beside him.</p>
<p>               Littlefinger turned towards him. “I thought we had a deal, where you left my men alone. Ser Vergas said you pushed him, making him land in filth.”</p>
<p>                “It wasn’t just filth, it was horse shit, and it was hilarious” Sandor said with a lighthearted laugh. He saw Littlefinger was going to respond, and before he could, Sandor grabbed him by the collar of his fancy tunic and turned, so that the man was squirming and hanging over the parapet.</p>
<p>                “Hound, please, what are you doing? Did someone pay you? I’ll double it! No, triple it!” the Littlefucker squealed desperately, attempting to save his own skin.</p>
<p>               Sandor just laughed. “As if you wouldn’t just turn around and have me killed right after before I could collect my payment.”</p>
<p>                “No, please, let me go, and I’ll-“</p>
<p>                “Let you go? Sure.”</p>
<p>               Littlefinger scrambled to hold on to Sandor’s arm, but Sandor just let go of his grip on the rat’s tunic and pulled his arm back, watching the man fall. And did he ever fall ungracefully, screaming the entire way down, before landing with a loud thud on the rocks below. It was too far away, but Sandor reckoned if he leaned over the parapets enough, he could see splatters of red around a lump that used to be one of the most dangerous men in Westeros.</p>
<p>               Sandor stood and smiled to himself, while the man who had been following behind Baelish as his bodyguard finally got to where Sandor stood, shoving his sword into Sandor’s belly. Sandor just smiled as he slid down the parapet onto the ground, bleeding out. Then everything turned black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi guys, sorry the chapters are rather short, I figured you would prefer me posting shorter chapters more often rather than long chapters spread out. Let me know if it's annoying. Thanks for reading!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               <em>You can do this, you can do this, you can do this, </em>Sandor chanted to himself, <em>just act like you used to, just tune them all out.</em></p>
<p>The whole ‘act like he used to’ plan to get to Winterfell was even worse than he imagined. They had not even left the fucking Red Keep yet and Sandor was ready to brutally murder everyone. The fact that he had not done so was really a testament to how much he had changed. He did use to be better at ignoring them all and just doing his job, but that was mostly because of all the wine, and the fact that he used exist in a state of perpetual drunkenness or hungover-ness. Pretending to be his old self was making the idea of drinking an entire barrel of Dornish Red more attractive by the minute.</p>
<p>               The good thing was Sandor was rarely expected to contribute to conversations, or not look like he wanted to murder everyone. However, he had become much freer with his insults recently, and reigning them in was just so hard when the insults basically wrote themselves.</p>
<p>               Sandor sat atop Stranger, focusing on not bringing attention to himself, when the half man approached him. “Ready for a great adventure, Clegane? We have a long journey ahead of ourselves, especially with the size of our party. I admit, it is good to get out and stretch my legs sometimes, and I am quite excited to see what the inns and towns we pass through have to offer for entertainment” Tyrion said, wiggling his eyebrows.</p>
<p>               <em>Don’t contribute, just grunt or something, </em>Sandor thought to himself.</p>
<p>               “Grunt.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion blinked at him. “Did you just <em>say</em> the word ‘grunt’ instead of actually grunting at me?”</p>
<p>               “No, maybe, fuck off” Sandor responded brilliantly. <em>Fuck, okay, this is fine, insult him enough and he’ll leave you alone, that’s what he used to do. He will just want to get an insult back at me first, then leave all high and mighty.</em></p>
<p>               Tyrion squinted at him. “Something seems different about you, I can’t quite put my finger on it, but something is definitely there”.</p>
<p>               Sandor panicked, and spat out, “no, you’re wrong, nothing different, completely the same”.</p>
<p>               Now Tyrion just looked offended. “How dumb do you think I am?”</p>
<p>               Sandor sucked in a breath, and tried not to spit out the comeback to that question he had on the tip of his tongue. He may have let out a whine in the process. This was so not going well. <em>Time to make a quick escape</em>. “I have to go over there now.” He said, focusing on letting only those words out, and hastily led Stranger across the yard.</p>
<p>               This well thought out plan did not work, as Tyrion simply followed him across the yard atop his own horse. “Now I am genuinely concerned, this isn’t normal behaviour for you. And that had to be the absolute worst escape attempt I have seen from you. Seriously, what is going on?”</p>
<p>               Sandor stopped Stranger and looked Tyrion in the eye. <em>Oh, what the hell. If this does not work, I can just try again.</em> “I believe I am in hell. I think it might be a hell controlled by the Old Gods, so I need to make it to Winterfell to ask someone with knowledge about that sort of thing about it. If I am remembering properly, there was an old person there last time who was supposed to know of that sort of thing, can’t remember if it was a man or woman, I just remember an old lump. In order to get to Winterfell, I can’t get myself killed, or else I just wake up back in my bed in the Red Keep, a day before King Robert leaves for Winterfell. This is the longest I have made it, and I figured keeping my mouth shut and head down was the best plan.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion blinked at him again. “I do believe that is the most I have heard you speak at one time.” He rubbed his chin. “Say I believe you, and everything you just said was not bullshit. Why do you think you are in hell? How did you die initially? What do you mean you just wake up back in bed if you are killed?”</p>
<p>               Sandor groaned. “That’s a lot of questions half-man. It would take a long time and a lot of wine to tell that story. How are you even considering this? If a man came up to me spouting what I am, I’d put him down as a mercy.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion shrugged. “Call it academic curiosity. It could be interesting to inspect the inner workings of the mind of a man who has lost it. And if you need time to tell the story, we have a month-long ride in front of us. And if you need wine…” he reached into one of his saddlebags and pulled out a flagon, “I’m not exactly short of it”.</p>
<p>               “But you are short!” Sandor shouted, then cringed. “Sorry, I’m not used to having to control what I say.”</p>
<p>               “The fact that you are trying is astonishing. Is that part of the reason you keep getting killed, as you say?”</p>
<p>               “I mean, yes, partly. I also keep brutally killing people, which has been generally frowned upon.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion laughed. “Yes, I could see how that would be looked down on. Well, go on, start your story. I’m genuinely interested in what your brain can come up with.” He said, tossing the hound a flagon of Dornish Red.</p>
<p>               Sandor caught the flagon, opened it and took a big sniff. “I haven’t had Dornish Red in a long time, this should be interesting.”</p>
<p>               “I swear I saw you drinking it a couple days ago.” Tyrion responded in confusion.</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “Yeah, and that was a lifetime ago. Here, just let me explain what happened. So, the royal party rode north to Winterfell…”</p>
<p>               It took several days, but Sandor explained to Tyrion the important parts of what had happened, at least the parts that Sandor knew. Tyrion balked at many parts, saying things like ‘he would never do that’, to which Sandor would respond ‘well I literally watched him do that’. They drank, and laughed, but made sure to stay away from others in the royal party when possible. It was plain to see that some people, like Jaime, were confused to see them chatting so much, but most simply wrote it off as having nothing to do on the long ride North.</p>
<p>               “…and I tackled him off the tower, both of us plunging into the fiery depths below. Then I woke up here. And now every time I am killed, I am not actually killed, I just wake back up in the Red Keep.” Sandor finished, looking into the fire he and Lannister were seated in front of.</p>
<p>               Tyrion snorted. “That was a remarkably interesting tale, and one I can’t imagine you actually coming up with yourself. I am tempted to believe you, based solely on that.”</p>
<p>               “You just believe me because of all of the wine we’ve been drinking.” Sandor laughed, shoving Tyrion’s shoulder, who promptly fell off the log he was sitting on.</p>
<p>               Tyrion laughed, “Help! I’ve been assaulted by the Hound, won’t someone rescue me?”</p>
<p>               “Gods, how drunk are you two? Not that this is anything new” a new voice behind them said. They both turned their heads, Tyrion still lying on the ground, to see Jaime Lannister standing with his arms crossed against his chest, leaning against a tree.</p>
<p>               “The real question, brother, is why are you upside down?” Tyrion hiccupped, still recovering from laughing.</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “This may be the most fun I have had in a long time. Gods, isn’t that sad, I can’t remember the last time I thought that I was genuinely happy.”</p>
<p>               “And it’s all thanks to me, the bringer of joy and wine. You’re welcome.” Tyrion slurred from the ground.</p>
<p>               Jaime moved over to help his brother up, when a large shape burst through the trees. “I heard good times being had, now why wasn’t I invited!” King Robert shouted as he barged into the clearing.</p>
<p>               “You couldn’t handle what we were doing” Sandor said, referring to his and Tyrion’s talk, but not wanting to say it out loud.</p>
<p>               King Robert looked affronted. “Oh oh, don’t think the King can keep up in drinking, do you? Let’s just see about that!” He said, beginning to chug the closest flagon of wine he could find.</p>
<p>               Jaime, the only sober one, looked contrite. “I’m not sure if this is the best idea-“</p>
<p>               “Oh, shut up for once in your life Lannister. Let us have our fun. Or better yet, take your dick out of your hand and join us.” King Robert cackled.</p>
<p>               Jaime’s face transformed into one of determination. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”</p>
<p>               What followed was a night of drinking and laughing, and Sandor stopped trying to hold his tongue and joked with the men like they were lifelong friends. Thinking of it, he had known the Lannister brothers for most of his life, after he went to Casterly Rock to avoid his brother. He has known King Robert for the entirety of his marriage to Cersei. But never had he heard some of the things they said that night, most likely deep secrets that they never intended on telling anyone. It was honestly the most fun Sandor could remember having. Eventually, they all left the fire, and went off to sleep.</p>
<p>---          </p>
<p>               Sandor woke up back in his room.</p>
<p>               “Ah shit” he groaned, sitting up. He honestly had no recollection of how he died that time, although all things considered, he had made it fairly far. He had lived for over a week without being killed, which was impressive based on his track record.</p>
<p>               He stood up and began getting ready for the day. <em>Time for attempt number 2.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               This time, Sandor decided to make his way towards Tyrion first, to avoid being flustered. Not that he was ever flustered last time, no, he was simply taken be surprise. Sandor Clegane did not get flustered. Still, it couldn’t hurt to avoid a situation arising in which he <em>may</em> be flustered.</p>
<p>               Tyrion looked slightly surprised as Sandor brought Stranger up beside his horse. “What can I do for you Clegane?”</p>
<p>               “I had the strangest dream last night. A young boy was being harassed mercilessly about something he was insecure about, and he decided to extract revenge. He was much smarter than the others, especially considering his young age, and cracked the brilliant plan to wait on a walkway above where he knew the others had to walk with a bucket a filth. He was going to dump the bucket on them, then run away and hide in a spot nearby. Unfortunately, it did not go according to plan, and he lost his grip on the bucket before he could properly dump it. The bucket smashed into one of their heads, not permanently injuring him, but knocking him out cold. The boy ran, and his older brother, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from a window, quickly ran out and took responsibility, saying it was just a prank gone wrong, and apologized. Their father was disappointed in him, saying he was too old for such antics, but he was his golden heir, and did not get in nearly as much trouble as his brother would have.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion narrowed his eyes at him. “That dream sounds strangely familiar to a story that someone I happen to know promised to take to his grave.”</p>
<p>               Sandor smiled slightly. “I think you were the one who told me a while you were drunk a while ago, and I just remembered for some reason last night” he said. He didn’t like lying, but he figured he had to in order to actually make it to Winterfell this time. He still didn’t know how he died last time, so he had to keep an eye out, and do things differently than he had. One of those being no drinking. <em>Which better fucking work</em> he thought to himself.</p>
<p>               “Well, that is a better scenario than that person telling the secret, I suppose. I can’t say I remember telling you, but if I was drunk, that is not exactly a surprise. We must have had a good time if I cannot remember us drinking together. Do you have to ride with Joffrey the whole trip?”</p>
<p>               Sandor rolled his eyes. “Just when he feels like riding on horseback, most of the time I expect he’ll hide in the wheelhouse with his mother.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion laughed. “What’s this? The Hound not properly respecting his masters? I should have you flogged for this!” he joked.</p>
<p>               “Aye, do you want me to fetch you a stool so you can reach?” Sandor joked back.</p>
<p>               Tyrion laughed even louder. “Come ride with me today Clegane, I have never seen you banter like this and it is quite entertaining. Would you like some wine?” he pulled a flagon out of one of his saddlebags and waved it.</p>
<p>               Sandor shook his head. “I’m trying not to drink,” he said, but then realized that would sounds suspicious. He quickly came up with an excuse that was technically not a lie, “I woke up this morning with a raging hangover and figured I would stop drinking for a bit.”</p>
<p>               “Like that would have stopped you before. Let me know if you want some later, I brought enough to satisfy an entire inn full of thirsty soldiers. Now, what do you think of…”</p>
<p>               They rode together similarly to how they did last time, although Sandor drank a lot less wine. He did drink some later in the journey, just to ease suspicion, but for the most part he put water in his flagon to make it look like he was still drinking the same amount.</p>
<p>               They got to the same clearing and drank in front of the fire like last time, but Sandor was keeping an eye out for any trouble. It could have been he died because he was being a drunk idiot and just tripped on something or the like, but one could never be too cautious. They were close to Winterfell, and he just had to make it there and get his questions answered.</p>
<p>               Like last time, Jaime and King Robert joined them, and Sandor made a show of looking like he was drinking far more than he was, along with slurring his words and stumbling around. He left the clearing to take a piss when he heard a commotion just beyond some bushes.</p>
<p>               He peeked around them to see some soldier he didn’t recognize dragging a serving girl further into the bushes. The girl was slight with long brown hair, and was crying, begging the man to stop. She reminded Sandor a bit of Sansa, not in looks, but in her helplessness. Sandor saw red, and stormed towards the man, just about ready to cut him in half. He grabbed the man by the shoulder and spun him around, and was greeted with a knife in the belly. Sandor looked down and the knife sticking out of him, and back up at the man, who was now starring at him in disbelief and terror.</p>
<p>               “I swear, Hound, I didn’t realize it was you, I’m so sorry-“ the rat sputtered out.</p>
<p>               Sandor just grabbed his head with both hands and turned, snapping his useless, pathetic neck. He watched the body hit the ground, then sat down himself against a tree, feeling his consciousness fading. The serving girl ran towards him, trying to stop the bleeding and screaming for help. Then everything went black.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               Sandor groaned to himself, but did not open his eyes, not ready to see that he failed getting to Winterfell yet again. <em>I wonder if that’s what happened last time, and I was just too drunk to remember</em> he thought to himself. Although the longer he laid there with his eyes closed, the more he realized that he was in way more pain than normal. Especially coming from the area that he was stabbed.</p>
<p>               He opened his eyes and realized he was not, in fact, back in his room in the red keep, but in a recovery room that maesters usually had in keeps.  <em>Hmm that’s strange, I must have lived.</em></p>
<p>               Sandor looked around the room and realized the serving girl he had helped was curled up in a chair in the corner, asleep. He looked down at his stomach, and saw bandages covering his lower abdomen where he had been stabbed. He poked at it and let out a hiss of pain, which woke up the girl in the chair.</p>
<p>               “Oh! You’re awake, I’ll go fetch the maester, Ser!” she said, running out the door.</p>
<p>               “Not a Ser” he said, albeit half-heartedly given she was already out the door.</p>
<p>               The maester came in and checked him over, asking him what seemed like hundreds of questions, all of which could be summed up by Sandor as “I’m fine.”</p>
<p>               The maester told him he had to stay in bed for at least another week in order for his stiches to heal properly, to which Sandor swore colourfully, but he had already made it to Winterfell, having to wait a week to get answers would hardly be the end of the world.  </p>
<p>               The maester left, giving assurances that he would check on Sandor again later, and the girl was about to follow him, before stopping and turning around. “I just wanted to thank you, Ser, for what you did. It was very brave.”</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed dramatically. Now the girl was reminding him a lot more of the little bird. “I’m not a Ser, girl. What’s your name?”</p>
<p>               “Marta, Se-how should I address you then?”</p>
<p>               “You can just call me Sandor, or Clegane. Or even Hound if you want, I really don’t care. Just not Ser.”</p>
<p>               Marta smiled. “Well I’m not calling you Hound, but I’ll call you Sandor if you call me Marta.”</p>
<p>               Sandor laughed. “Might want to call me Clegane in other company, just to prevent any heart attacks from the shock of it.”</p>
<p>               “Well, we wouldn’t want that” she giggled, and turned to leave the room. “Thanks again, Sandor!”</p>
<p>               Sandor grunted a response, he couldn’t change all his habits, and he didn’t need fifty thank yous just for killing a rat like that soldier.</p>
<p>               He heard the door close, and a startled Marta say, “Beg my pardon, m’lady, I didn’t see you standing there.”</p>
<p>               He didn’t hear anything other than a muttered response in a high pitch voice, like that of a little girl. He figured that meant either Arya or Sansa was standing outside his door listening. Arya would be the most likely to do so at the age she would be now, as Sansa would think it too unladylike to listen through doors. However, Arya wouldn’t give a meek response, and would probably charge into the room after being caught to ask whatever questions she had.</p>
<p>               So, who was at the door? And why did they not come in?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               He woke up to someone licking his face.</p>
<p>               Sandor cracked one eye open, still sluggish from the medicine the maester had given him, and saw a ball of fluff sitting on his chest, ready to attack his face with kisses again. He quickly reached out and held the fluffball at arms length. “Don’t you dare try that again, mutt” he growled, not actually mad. Sandor had a weakness when it came to dogs. Puppy dog eyes did, in fact, work on him, and he has lost many pieces of meals to their mysterious power.</p>
<p>               “Nymeria, no! Off!” shouted a young voice, and Sandor knew right away that it belonged to Arya Stark. The wolf girl looked so much younger and more innocent than the last time he saw her, with the weight of all the horrors she had been through washed away. It was nice to see someone new who he did not want to immediately maim or murder.</p>
<p>               “It’s okay girl, she’s not exactly-OOF” Sandor grunted, as Nymeria stepped exactly where his wound was. Arya noticed, and frantically jumped on the bed to pull Nymeria off, and in the process pushed down even harder on the recovering wound.</p>
<p>               “Sorry! Sorry! She didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!” she sputtered out.</p>
<p>               Sandor just laughed, although it came out more as a wheeze. “Don’t you worry little girl; I’ve suffered through much worse than having a wound poked at.”</p>
<p>               Arya’s eyes grew wide. “Really? Like what?” she asked, sitting down in the chair beside the bed, and pulling Nymeria into her lap. “And I’m not a little girl, so don’t spare any of the grisly details.” Both wolf and girl stared at him expectedly.</p>
<p>               “Well, the first time I went to war, I was only a couple years older than you, at three and ten. Although, that was not the first time I saw the horrors a man could commit.”</p>
<p>               Arya furrowed her brow. “Wait, what would you have seen before a war? Was it part of a great adventure?”</p>
<p>               Sandor just shook his head. If he was in hell, it really wouldn’t matter if he told the wolf girl his secret. <em>And honestly, I don’t really mind talking about it anymore</em>, he thought to himself. He had told that ginger cunt Tormund about it easily enough, although the man had the mental capacity of a lemon.</p>
<p>               “No great adventure unfortunately. Do you have any siblings?” he asked, already knowing the answer, but needing to explain it clearly to her.</p>
<p>               “Yes, a sister and four brothers, Sansa, Jon, Robb, Bran, and Rickon. Why?”</p>
<p>               “Well, I have a brother, and I used to have a sister. Do you think your siblings could do anything truly horrible to you?”</p>
<p>               Arya looked deep in thought, before looking up again. “Not really, no. Sansa can be mean and sometimes calls me names, but I can always get her back by messing up her dress or something. Did one of your siblings do something horrible to you?”</p>
<p>               Sandor pointed to the burns on his face. “My brother is the one who gave me these.”</p>
<p>               Arya’s mouth popped open, and her wolf looked on, oddly somber. <em>Well, that’s kind of creepy. How much do those wolves understand?</em></p>
<p>               “What happened? Why would he do that?” she asked, looking horrified.</p>
<p>               “A carpenter gave my father some toys in order to gain favour with him. Gregor’s was painted and very elaborate, you could make the arms and legs of the horse and knight move. He was too old for toys by then, and I just wanted to play with it. I wasn’t going to steal it or anything. But he walked into the room as I was playing with it, and with an evil smirk on his face, pushed my face into the hot coals of the fire in the hearth. It took five of my father’s men to pull him off me. I was bedridden for weeks, and my father protected Gregor by lying and telling everyone it was an accident, that my bedding had caught fire in the middle of the night.”</p>
<p>               Arya looked offended. “He covered it up? Your brother didn’t get punished? How is that fair? How old were you?”</p>
<p>               “Nothing in life is fair, wolf girl. And I was six years old, hardly able to fight back. And now Gregor is a great knight, protecting the realm” Sandor barked a laugh, “as if he isn’t the one the realm needs to be protected from. That’s why I spit on knights and their empty vows now. They all say they’ll protect those who can’t protect themselves, but the second it serves them, they’ll do what they truly want to instead.”</p>
<p>               “Well the North isn’t like that, we don’t have stupid knights. Our soldiers fight honourably for their own reasons, for good reasons, to help others” Arya said with conviction in her voice.</p>
<p>               “Everywhere has evil men, and evil men lurk everywhere. Even if you are surrounded by those who you should be able to trust, they could still decide to betray you for nothing more than wanting to line their pockets with gold. Don’t forget that.”</p>
<p>               Arya nodded seriously. Nymeria looked up at her, then back at Sandor and started mimicking the nod as well. Sandor couldn’t contain himself and let out a hearty laugh. “Well that was one of the cutest things I have ever seen.”</p>
<p>               Arya looked contrite. “She is not cute, she is a ferocious direwolf! Nymeria, show him!”</p>
<p>               Nymeria proceeded to roll over and show Sandor her belly.</p>
<p>               “Ah yes, a truly fearsome creature. And don’t you worry, I know she will grow to be a mighty beast one day. She is just ridiculously cute right now. As are you honestly” Sandor said with a laugh reaching over to ruffle Arya’s hair. He knew it would bother her, but she was truly a cute little kid right now.</p>
<p>               Arya lashed out her arms, swatting him away. “I. Am not. Cute!” she shouted.</p>
<p>               “Whatever you say” he said, remnants of the laugh still in his voice.</p>
<p>               Arya calmed down some, and her face grew into one of focus and determination. “Will you teach me how to fight? My father will not let me learn. Well, he lets me sneak around, but I don’t get official lessons like my brothers do.”</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed. “I could, but your father would have to agree. I need to do something while I’m here in Winterfell, and I’d rather not be gutted by Lord Stark before I do it.”</p>
<p>               Arya nodded seriously, trying to contain herself from jumping up and down in excitement. “Don’t worry, I know exactly how to ask father. I’ll go see if I can find him now” she said, jumping up from her chair and heading towards the door, Nymeria trailing after her. At the door, she turned around and asked, “Is what your brother did to you a secret? I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”</p>
<p>               Sandor waved his hand in her direction. “Don’t go blabbing about it, but I don’t care if you tell people. Just don’t let any of the other soldiers know, they like to think I got it in some great battle, and I don’t see a good reason to tell them otherwise.”</p>
<p>               Arya smiled and opened the door. “Nymeria, come!”</p>
<p>               Nymeria looked back at Sandor with large intelligent eyes, before turning around and leaving the room.</p>
<p>               Sandor sat back on his bed and thought about the conversation he just had. He’d come a long way from keeping how he got his scars as his deepest, darkest secret. He truly did not care that much anymore if others learned of how he got them. He laughed as he though of the wolf girl running to her father, asking him to let the horrifying Hound teach her how to fight. <em>This should be interesting.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor was itching to get up and train, but the maester said he wasn’t allowed to do more than walk around the recovery room for another day, in order to make sure his stiches fully healed. He was grumbling to himself and stretching his arms out when there was a knock on the door.</p>
<p>               “Come in” he called, and as the door opened slightly, two wolf pups came bounding towards him, one being Nymeria, and the other one wearing a pink ribbon. “Don’t think I’ve ever seen a wolf wearing a pretty pink ribbon before” he said, looking towards the door. There stood the Stark sisters, Arya smiling and entering the room, and Sansa, looking a bit hesitant to enter, but finally hurrying inside and closing the door.</p>
<p>               “I talked to father, and he said not to continue to bother you while you were healing, and that he did not believe that you agreed to train me, so you will have to talk to him yourself”, Arya said, plopping herself down in the chair beside his bed.</p>
<p>               Sandor raised an eyebrow at her. “Your father told you not to bother me, so you naturally came straight to my room to bother me? Why am I not surprised?” he laughed.</p>
<p>               “Well Sansa kept bothering me about meeting you once I told her we had talked already.”</p>
<p>               “Arya!” Sansa scolded, as her face turned bright pink. She then turned towards Sandor. “It was very brave what you did for that serving girl, Ser Sandor. You acted like a true knight.”</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed. “I’m not a knight, girl, I already told your sister this. I know knights who have done horrors you couldn’t imagine in your pretty little head.”</p>
<p>               Sansa nodded seriously. “Arya told me what your brother did. Do not worry, I won’t tell anyone, I promise. Your brother is no true knight” she said, sounding sure in her convictions. Arya nodded along with her.</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed again, sad that he had to break her disillusions. <em>Well, better I start to explain it to her now, than have it beaten into her later, </em>he thought. “Actually, most knights act like that, as I told your sister already. Most will only do what benefits themselves, or do exactly what their lords tell them to do, even if that is to hurt the innocent.”</p>
<p>               “I told her that already, and she did not believe me. She said I must have misunderstood what you said” Arya explained, rolling her eyes towards Sansa. “Told you so.”</p>
<p>               Sansa looked confused. “But why would a lord order a knight to hurt the innocent? He would have to have a good reason or have there be no other choice.”</p>
<p>               “Or the lord wants the peasants gone so he can use the land to do something else. Or the lord could just feel like hurting the innocent for fun. Listen to me carefully, girls, and get this through your heads. There are a lot of evil men out there, men who will hurt you the second it benefits them, or even if they just think they can get away from it. You may think you have people surrounding you who will protect you from those men, but odds are that if they are given the chance, some of them will do the exact same. I know you think Northerners are different, and maybe they are, but there is always the chance that someone around you is not as trustworthy as you have been led to believe” Sandor explained.</p>
<p>               Sansa looked like her whole reality had just been shattered, which it partially had been, while Arya just nodded along. “Yes, I thought over the words you told me last time, and I think you are right. That is why you need to teach me how to fight, so I can protect myself.”</p>
<p>               “So, wait, you are saying that I should not even trust the men who are sworn to my father?” Sansa asked quietly, sounding unsure of herself, and looking at him with pleading eyes, as if begging him to tell her different.</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed. “Like I said, it is possible that none of them will ever hurt you. But I can’t say the same for the rest of the world, especially in the South. I am mainly telling you to keep an eye out for yourself. Even if you have protectors, you never know if or when they will decide to turn on you, and you need to be ready for if that happens.”</p>
<p>               Sansa continued to look at him with her large blue eyes. “But ladies are not supposed to know how to fight, that is what their protectors are for. What do I do if that happens?”</p>
<p>               Sandor scratched his beard. “Knowing how to make a quick getaway is important, most men don’t expect ladies to be able to run away quickly, especially in all their southern clothing. You don’t necessarily have to learn how to fight like your sister wants to, but knowing how to defend yourself if you find yourself alone is important. Even just knowing where to hit or kick a man could surprise him enough to give you time to escape, and I don’t think there’s anything unladylike about that.”</p>
<p>               Sansa considered this, and slowly nodded. “Yes, escaping is not fighting, it is protecting myself and my virtue. And I am one of the fastest runners out of my siblings when we play in the godswood. That seems acceptable, maybe.” She stared out the window. “I may need to discuss this with mother.”</p>
<p>               Arya snorted. “Mother is just going to say you have nothing to worry about so that you will stop asking her about it. I have already tried using that argument on her to let me learn how to fight.”</p>
<p>               “But you were using it as an excuse to get something else, maybe if I explain it properly, she will understand” Sansa explained.</p>
<p>               Arya shrugged. “You can try, I guess. Perfect Sansa asking to learn self defence should throw her off, maybe she will say yes out of shock” she laughed.</p>
<p>               Sansa shot her a look. “Maybe I am just better at explaining myself than you are.”</p>
<p>               “Are not!” Arya shouted back.</p>
<p>               “Girls.” Sandor said, looking between the two of them. Both turned red, having been caught arguing.</p>
<p>               “I am not usually this immature, my sincere apologies, Ser- how do you want us to address you?” Sansa asked.</p>
<p>               “Most people call me Hound, but Sandor or Clegane are both fine.”</p>
<p>               “Clegane then.” Sansa nodded seriously, trying to look more like a lady after the illusion was shattered during her argument with Arya.</p>
<p>               “Uh, we should probably leave before father finds out I completely ignored his wishes” Arya said, looking uneasily towards the door. “That may make him even more against the idea of fighting lessons.”</p>
<p>               “Yes, we shall leave now. Thank you, Clegane, for saving that girl. I still think it is what a true knight would do, but I will take what you said under consideration” Sansa said. “Lady, come.”</p>
<p>               Sansa left the room with Lady trailing after her. Arya followed with Nymeria, waving at Sandor with a big grin on her face, excited that she may soon be getting the fighting lessons she has wanted for so long.</p>
<p>               If Sandor could prepare the Stark sisters even a little bit for the real world, maybe they could do better in the future, truly live instead of just having to do what they could to survive. <em>Although I don’t know if I want to be the one to convince Ned Stark to let me train his precious daughters</em>, he thought, laughing to himself at the picture in his head.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor was finally free from the confines of the maester’s recovery room, and he decided to celebrate his freedom by finding the person he came to Winterfell to specifically seek out. He started by walking around Winterfell (definitely not hobbling, and definitely not in pain with each step), looking for a hunched over old person he remembered from the first time he was in Winterfell. He leaned against the wall, attempting to catch his breath that he had been holding in an attempt to not show the pain he was in on his face.</p>
<p>               “Seven fucking hells” he huffed to himself under his breath, holding a hand over his bandaged stomach. So maybe he hadn’t yet actually fully recovered, but the maester did say walking around helped. He also said to not do too much, which Sandor deep down knew he was purposely ignoring. He came to Winterfell for a reason, and no one was going to stand in his way.</p>
<p>               A small figure stood in his way.</p>
<p>               “Whatcha doing, Clegane?” Arya asked, leaning against the wall beside him and munching on an apple.</p>
<p>               “Minding my business, like you should be doing” he retorted, moving to stand up straight, but then groaning in pain and letting himself fall back against the wall.</p>
<p>               “Should you really be moving around this much?” she asked, eyeing the way he held his hand over his stomach.</p>
<p>               “Oh, like you listen perfectly to maesters’ orders” he said, rolling his eyes. Then he had an idea. “Actually, I’m looking for an old woman. A very old woman, with an appearance similar to that of a shriveled old pumpkin. She has knowledge of the old gods, and I wanted to ask her a couple questions.”</p>
<p>               Arya puffed up in indignation. “You shouldn’t talk about people behind their back like that! Apologize!”</p>
<p>               “To who? It’s not like she would give a fuck what I say about her.”</p>
<p>               “That’s not the point!” Arya barked back.</p>
<p>               “I think that is a rather humorous description of me” said a voice from behind Sandor, causing him to jump into the air.</p>
<p>               “Fucking hells, old woman. You could give someone a heart attack doing that.”   </p>
<p>               “If an old woman scares you so, you are not the man the gods made you out to be.”</p>
<p>               Sandor straightened to attention. “The gods have told you about me? Which ones? I’m assuming the Old Gods, yes?”</p>
<p>               She tilted her head at him. “It would be rather odd if I meant the seven now wouldn’t it?”</p>
<p>               “Old Nan knows a ton about the Old Gods, she’s the one who taught all of us about them, along with Father” Arya said, finishing her apple. “Well, you found her, have fun walking around in pain. Make sure you talk to Father later, I want to get started on my fighting lessons as soon as possible” she finished before walking away from the odd pair.               </p>
<p>               Sandor grumbled to himself, then turned towards the old woman, who was already hobbling away from him. “Come on, hurry up, I know what you want” she said, moving slowly.</p>
<p>               “I mean, I don’t exactly need to hurry to keep up with you” Sandor retorted.</p>
<p>               Old Nan just chuckled and continued to lead Sandor towards the Godswood.</p>
<p>               He took one step into the Godswood, and the old woman had fucking vanished.</p>
<p>               “What the fuck? Okay, real funny, sorry I said you were slow” Sandor called out, glancing around the woods that surrounded him. He thought he heard her footsteps further ahead, and began walking towards the sound.</p>
<p>               Just as he pushed past a bush, she appeared in front of him again, startling him. “Fucking hell woman, just stay in my line of vision for fucks sake!”</p>
<p>               Old Nan just chuckled and held out a steaming mug of foul looking liquid. “Here. Drink this” she demanded.</p>
<p>               Sandor sniffed the mug and made a gagging sound. “Not bloody likely, that smells like horseshit” he said, glaring at the offending mug.</p>
<p>               “How are you supposed to be a great big warrior if you cannot even drink a mug of this liquid. It smells odd, yes, but it will bring you closer to the Gods.”</p>
<p>               “Yeah, exactly, it smells like shit. I’m not drinking it. That’s final”</p>
<p>               “Are you not listening to a word I am saying? Listen carefully, for I cannot say more than allowed. If you drink this, it will bring you closer to the Old Gods” she said, exasperated with him.</p>
<p>               “Yeah, bring me closer by poisoning me, more like” Sandor bitched, taking the mug from the old woman. “Fine. Might as well get this over with, I didn’t come all this way for nothing.” Sandor then pinched his nose and drank the contents of the mug in one massive gulp. He then proceeded to sputter and continue to bitch about the taste. “If they’re such powerful gods, why does this drink taste so bad? Doesn’t really make people want to worship you!” he finished will a yell.</p>
<p>               Old Nan just chuckled at him and turned away. “Well, if you’re quite done, follow me, young man” she called over her shoulder, heading deeper into the woods.</p>
<p>               Sandor followed, moving his tongue around and trying to get the taste off it. They walked out into a clearing, which contained the mighty weirwood tree with a face carved into it, and red sap leaking from its eyes. Sandor had never actually seen the Winterfell weirwood tree, and he could almost feel the power of the Old Gods permeate his body just by looking at it.</p>
<p>Sandor snorted to himself. <em>Now look at me, being all religious and shit.</em></p>
<p>               “Come towards the tree” Old Nan instructed, waving him towards where she was already standing. After he walked over to her, she instructed him to lean over, and proceeded to poke him extremely hard right between the eyes.</p>
<p>               “Ow! What the fuck was that for!” he yelled, holding his forehead.</p>
<p>               “You are about to find out” she said ominously.</p>
<p>               Everything went black.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               Sandor woke with a start, and looked around, seeing nothing but luscious green grass, and an absolutely massive weirwood tree, at least five times the size of the one in the Winterfell godswood. He was sitting on the ground, surrounded by the grass that was greener than any he had ever seen.</p>
<p>               “Finally, you made it. That took longer than I was expecting. I was beginning to think we selected the wrong man. However, your journey here was quite humorous, so I shall forgive you, as you provided us with great entertainment.”</p>
<p>               The voice sounded like nothing Sandor had ever heard before, and sent a shiver of fear down his spine. “Who are you?” Sandor asked, his voice wavering.</p>
<p>               “I am one of many” the voice replied simply.</p>
<p>               “One of the Old Gods then?” Sandor asked, already having an idea of what the answer would be. He wanted to insult the god’s horrid drink choice, and tell him what he really thought about it, but he could feel the god’s power from where he sat in the grass, and figured it was best not to piss him off. He wasn’t a total idiot, after all.</p>
<p>               “Perhaps” he said, walking closer to Sandor. The god had no distinct shape, yet Sandor could see him. He could tell you where his head was, but not what it looked like. But he would never forget the power emanating from him.</p>
<p>               “Please, you have to tell me what is going on! Am I in hell? Or a hell? I thought I mostly had this all figured out, but it’s becoming pretty fucking clear to me that I have no idea what the fuck is going on!” Sandor said, close to having a breakdown. In his defence, how many men have talked to a god before? <em>At least you haven’t shat your pants. Yet, </em>he thought to himself.</p>
<p>               “We could only choose one. One who would work tirelessly to make things right. One who could withstand the pain of dying as many times as it took, without going mad. One who would protect the Stark bloodline at all costs. One who could work to stop the Others.”</p>
<p>               Sandor jumped up and started backing away from him, shaking his head. “You’re mad if you think I can stop the Others on my own, I could barely fight off a pack of their minions.”</p>
<p>               The god just smiled down at him. “You have as many chances as it takes.”</p>
<p>               “What, so I just do this until the Others are defeated? Oh yeah, that clears that up, real fucking simple. How do I know this isn’t just a fever dream from being poisoned by that horrible drink that the old woman made me drink? That would at least make sense, unlike whatever shit you’re spouting” Sandor said, chest rising and falling quickly as he continued to back away from the god, who continued to approach him at the same speed.</p>
<p>               “You simply need time to wrap your human mind around it. You will understand. Now you must go.” With that, the god jabbed him between the eyes, in the same spot that the old woman had.</p>
<p>               Everything went black, again.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Thanksgiving weekend to my fellow Canadians! I am writing this stuffed full of turkey and pumpkin pie. Thanks for all the kudos and comments so far!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor woke up panting and alone in front of Winterfell’s weirwood tree. He looked up at its face, which now almost appeared to be mocking him. He staggered to his feet and tried to walk away, before sitting back down and thinking about what just happened. If it did in fact happen.</p><p>               <em>I may have just talked to one of the Old Gods, no big deal, real fucking casual, </em>Sandor thought, focusing on slowing his heartbeat and trying to think of the situation more logically. <em>Hello, please kill all the fucking Others for us, we don’t know what else to do, thanks, Sandor! How the fuck am I supposed to do this?</em></p><p>He sat there for a while, mulling over the information he had been given. In all fairness, the whole being able to fail and just die and reset everything was quite helpful. He knew he’d fuck up a lot, and having the option to just try again settled his nerves somewhat. From what the god had mentioned, it seemed like the main goal would be to protect the Stark family, and then they should be able to do most of the whole defeating the Others business. It was most likely their birthright. Sandor reflected on how he could help them, and he figured he could start by offering the lessons Arya wanted so badly. He could also shake some reality into all of the Stark children’s heads, maybe even Lord Stark’s, and perhaps they would have a much better shot of all surviving this time. He knew honour was Ned Stark’s downfall, so if he could just plant the idea of not completely trusting others, it could help, even just a bit.</p><p>               Sandor snorted to himself. <em>Yeah, let’s just get Ned fucking Stark to be less honourable, piece of cake,</em> he thought to himself sarcastically. <em>It’s probably best to put most of my efforts towards the children then.</em></p><p>               Sandor heaved himself off the cold ground and made his way back towards the castle. His first step was to talk to Lord Stark and start his mission to paint himself as a trustworthy person. Sandor was a trustworthy person, but Ned Stark had the tendency to put trust in those he shouldn’t and ignore those that he should trust based on their background. If he could get him to agree to Sandor giving Arya some basic training, it could be a good start on his new mission.</p><p>               Inside the castle was fairly busy, although most were outside enjoying the sunny weather. Sandor made his way towards Ned Stark’s study, hoping that he would be available. He knew the chances were slim, but he figured he might as well try while he was still working, rather than having to pry him away from the fat king.</p><p>               He approached the men standing guard outside of the study and told them he was there to speak to Lord Stark. One of the men popped his head into the room, and then as luck would have it, nodded to Sandor to enter.</p><p>               Sandor entered Lord Stark’s study and waited to be acknowledged. He at least still knew all of the courtesies he was <em>supposed</em> to be following, he just never really needed to use them.</p><p>               Ned Stark finally looked up from what he had been reading. “Clegane, I see you are back on your feet. That was a very brave thing you did for that girl.”</p><p>               Sandor snorted. “Hardly brave, it’s not like I put much thought into helping her, I just did it, my Lord.”</p><p>               Ned Stark raised an eyebrow at him. “You do realize that it is even more impressive that you did not even have to think about it before doing the right thing?”</p><p>               Sandor waived a hand dismissively at him. “I wouldn’t have been stabbed if I hadn’t been drunk, and then we wouldn’t be having this conversation anyways.”</p><p>               “That just means that even while you were drunk and not thinking coherently, you did the honourable thing.” Ned smiled and shook his head at him. “Why are you so against being thanked for it?”</p><p>               “I don’t need thanks for doing that. I do enjoy fighting other men, but when I have a good reason to be doing so it just makes it that much sweeter. Doesn’t really make me brave either, it’s not like I was worried about fighting that pig” Sandor explained. He was trying to be truthful and polite to earn some trustworthiness points from Ned Stark, but Sandor had never been good at accepting compliments. Or praise. Or thankfulness. Or acceptance. <em>Hm, maybe this is actually an issue. I’ll worry about that later.</em></p><p>               “Well, my daughters disagree, they cannot stop talking about you. I have never seen them agree on a topic, and now all they talk about is how brave you are and how good at fighting you must be. Arya told me she asked you for lessons, and I told her that you did not want to be bothered by little girls, and that it is not your job. I do apologize if she has badgered you about it at all, but I did ask her to stop. She is very strong-willed, and once she decides she wants to do something, will stop at almost nothing to get her way.”</p><p>               “I actually wouldn’t mind teaching Arya a thing or two, but once I am up and fighting again, I will have to resume my position as Prince Joffrey’s shield. With your permission, I could give her a few lessons, maybe that would satisfy her eagerness once she is sore and tired and realizes its not all fun and games.”</p><p>               Lord Stark shook his head ruefully. “No, I know Arya, if she is sore and tired, she will just keep working until that is no longer the case. Feel no responsibility to do so, but if you want to give her a few lessons, then I will allow it. I would appreciate it if you did it somewhere out of sight of the men training. Catelyn has been trying to make a Lady out of Arya for years, and would be, let’s say, unappreciative if she saw her covered in mud and learning how to fight.”</p><p>               Sandor nodded in understanding. “I was thinking of doing it in the Godswood, if that is alright with you. I know the wolves your children have usually roam through there, so I thought it would discourage prying eyes.”</p><p>               Ned nodded gratefully. “That should work, thank you. And remember, if you do not want to do the lessons anymore, and Arya is not taking no as an answer, let me know.”</p><p>               “I think I can handle saying no to a little girl” Sandor said with a snort.</p><p>               “You say that now, but just you wait” he responded with a chuckle. “Thank you for humouring my children, Clegane.”</p><p>               “Lord Stark” Sandor nodded respectfully, and he ducked out of the room.</p><p>               All in all, Sandor thought the meeting went well. Ned Stark thought much higher of him than he had in his previous life, mainly from saving that serving girl, Marta. It was unfortunate he would have to get stabbed again if he had to do a reset on this life, but that appeared to be the easiest way so far to gain the Starks’ trust.</p><p>               As Sandor rounded a corner, a small body ran into him. “Did you ask him? What did he say? Did he say yes? Can you train me?” Arya asked, seemingly not needing a breath between questions.</p><p>               Sandor put his hands on Arya’s shoulders and moved her away from him. “Yes, I did, I can give you a few lessons hidden away in the Godswood, but I can’t promise anything once I have to take on my duties again as Prince Joffrey’s shield.”</p><p>               Arya squealed in excitement. “When can we start? Can we start today? What will we need?”</p><p>               “I have had enough excitement for one day, but we can start first thing tomorrow, bright and early. Meet me in the clearing by the weirwood tree. I’ll bring everything we’ll need.”</p><p>               Arya nodded seriously. “I shall see you tomorrow then” she said, before skipping away in excitement.</p><p>               Sandor sighed and ran a hand down his face, hoping this was what the gods wanted, and that he wouldn’t regret it.</p><p>---</p><p>               When Sandor entered the clearing the next morning, Arya was already there and was all but bouncing up and down on the spot. Sandor put down the bag he was carrying full of equipment, and they promptly got to work.</p><p>               Sandor was impressed, to say the least. Arya absorbed everything he said, and every little correction he made, she took to heart and fixed in the next try. While she lacked muscle mass, he taught her some moves she could use, taking advantage of her small size. When he mentioned that she needed to gain muscle, she asked how, and seemed to make a mental note of everything he said.</p><p>               Sandor had noticed early on that someone was lurking behind a group of trees and watching them, but he knew based on their size that it was one of the other Stark children, so he wasn’t concerned. Once that someone let out a high-pitched sneeze, he knew who it was. “It would probably be more comfortable for you to watch in the clearing, Lady Sansa.”</p><p>               Sansa came out from behind the trees, red-faced from being caught. “I apologize, but I was not sure if you would be happy with me watching or not, and, well…”</p><p>               “No worries, little bird, you can watch all you like. A lot of these techniques will be good for you to learn as well. I also think both of you should practice running while wearing your fancy dresses. I know you both said you are good at running, and will be able to run away from someone if necessary, but being able to run in comfortable clothing is much different than running while wearing a heavy dress.”</p><p>               Sansa nodded seriously, while Arya started gesturing wildly. “See! This is why the fancy and elaborate dresses are stupid! We should not even have to wear them in the first place!”</p><p>               Sandor shrugged. “You may be right, but you will be forced into them anyways, may as well learn how to fight and escape while wearing them.”</p><p>               Arya seemed to consider this. “I guess wearing them to practice fighting in them isn’t the worst idea in the world.”</p><p>               “Mother would also think you are listening to her and acting more like a lady if you start wearing dresses more often. She might even stop bothering you about acting like a lady as much” Sansa added.</p><p>               “Yes…yes, this could work” Arya said, rubbing her hands together.</p><p>               Sandor took Arya through a few more exercises she could practice, and explained to both girls certain things and moves they could practice while wearing dresses. He also told them to eat more meat, as it would help them get stronger and make their evasion techniques more effective. At this, Sansa started to look concerned.</p><p>               “But ladies are not supposed to be muscular, they are supposed to be dainty and elegant” Sansa said, her eyebrows crinkling together in concern.</p><p>               “Trust me, it takes a lot of hard work for a woman to become muscular, you will not be able to see it as much, but it will help you fight someone off, especially when they are expecting you to be ‘dainty and elegant’. You can act helpless, and then when you are not, the element of surprise will buy you valuable seconds to escape” Sandor explained.</p><p>               Sansa nodded seriously, and surprisingly seemed to be taking his words to heart with little push back. Sandor thought for sure that she would be arguing more with him, and refusing to even consider practice the exercises he was giving the girls.</p><p>               “Alright, that’s enough for today. Remember to practice what I said” Sandor told the girls, while packing up the supplies he brought.</p><p>               Arya ran off immediately, probably to start practicing some of the strength or cardio work he had given them, but Sansa remained in the same spot. She was staring at the ground, but once Arya was out of hearing range she stepped forward. “Thank you for helping us, I know most people see us as just silly little girls.” Sansa paused, seeming to be carefully picking out what she wanted to say. “I thought about what you said before, about not trusting everyone right away. The Queen complimented me yesterday, and I was so happy about it, but later I started thinking about what you had said, and I realized that it was not fully a compliment. She was calling me a Lady, but condescendingly, almost like she thought I was stupid. And I started thinking of how everyone else treats Arya and I, and it is almost like we are not worth the effort to take what we say seriously, even when they are covering it up with being polite, if that makes any sense.”</p><p>               Sandor was proud that Sansa was starting to pick out these falsehoods, but also surprised it was happening so early. “Aye, it makes sense, little bird. Everyone underestimates what children can do, and that’s one of the things you can use to your advantage, like I was telling you and Arya before. I think it is a great sign of intelligence that you can pick up on the falsehoods in their speech.”</p><p>               Sansa smiled sweetly at him and blushed, before saying goodbye and hurrying away.</p><p>               So much had already changed. It shocked Sandor, and he was beginning to think that maybe he could actually do this.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               He couldn’t do this.</p>
<p>               He was currently surrounded by Lannister men in Winterfell’s great hall, doing everything in his power to not brutally murder everyone around him. He kept reminding himself of his mission, and how he was doing so well at earning people’s trust this time through. But it was tempting, oh so tempting, to just kill all these fucking buggers and start again.</p>
<p>               “Hey Hound, heard you got taken down by a poke in the belly!”</p>
<p>               “Who would waste any energy on helping a serving girl? What, are you in love with her or something?”</p>
<p>               “Maybe he found someone who could ignore his ugly face when he fucked them!”</p>
<p>               Sandor was doing a fairly decent job at ignoring the idiots and just grunting at them in return. Of course, this made them try even harder to get a reaction from him, but he was hoping they would give up eventually.</p>
<p>               Sandor looked up at the table the Stark family was seated at, and he noticed the Stark girls both had a lot more meat on their plates than normal, seemingly taking his advice to heart. He snorted to himself when he saw Arya rip into her meat with her teeth, resembling her direwolf, and Sansa rolling her eyes at her sister in return.</p>
<p>               “I bet you just wanted that serving girl all for yourself! All you Cleganes are the same, can’t let someone else come between you and a good rape!”</p>
<p>               Sandor finally snapped and stood up, hauling up the man who had just spoken. “You and me. Outside. Now.”</p>
<p>               Sandor bodily dragged the man outside with him, not caring if he caused a scene. <em>How dare he insinuate that I would do that! How dare he compare me to that monster that people call my brother! </em>Sandor threw the man on the ground in the training area, and roared at him, “pick a weapon! Let’s see if your skills live up to your cunt mouth!”</p>
<p>               The man trembled on the ground. “Please, Hound, we were just joking around!”</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “Don’t care, grab a weapon to defend yourself before I cut you in half.” The man didn’t move and continued to blabber from the ground. Sandor shrugged. “Fine, or don’t” he said, raising his sword above him. At that, the man finally scrambled up and drew his sword. Sandor reigned down upon him, bashing his sword against his using his full strength. He toyed with the man a bit, as he could have easily ended the fight in seconds, and made sure that the man felt each hit from Sandor’s sword deep down in his bones. The man was completely undignified and appeared to be on the verge of shitting himself the entire time. Finally, Sandor had enough, and easily knocked the sword out of the man’s hands.</p>
<p>               The man squealed that he yielded as he cowered on the ground with his hands covering his face. “Watch what comes out of your cunt mouth next time” Sandor spat at him, before putting his sword away. Suddenly, everything else came back into his awareness, and he realized the training area was full of people who had been watching the fight.</p>
<p>               Arya and Sansa were the first to run up to him. “That was amazing! I have never seen anyone toy with someone like you did! Do you think you can teach me to fight like that?” Arya shouted at him.</p>
<p>               Sansa looked at him in concern. “Are you okay? I thought you were not supposed to try fighting again for at least a week.”</p>
<p>               “That was nothing, like swatting at flies. And I’m fine, the maester said not to fight for a while longer, but no harm done. Besides, I had to teach him a lesson after what he said” Sandor replied to both girls.</p>
<p>               Sansa furrowed her brow. “What did he say?”</p>
<p>               “Nothing fit for ladies’ ears.”</p>
<p>               “I am not a lady! You can tell me!” Arya said, glaring at Sansa as if expecting her to argue.</p>
<p>               “Fine, then you are both too young to hear anyways.”</p>
<p>               Now Sansa looked offended. “We are not children!” she said indignantly, stomping her foot.</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “That foot stomp says otherwise.”</p>
<p>               Sansa turned beet red, but before either girl could respond, Sandor was surrounded by even more Stark children.</p>
<p>               “Clegane, I can see you met my two sisters already. I am Robb, and this is Jon and Bran.” Robb said, indicating to each of them in turn.</p>
<p>               Sandor nodded his head. “Well met.” He couldn’t believe how young Robb Stark looked. This was the boy who would, in one lifetime anyways, storm south and defeat Tywin Lannister’s armies at every battle along the way.</p>
<p>               “Clegane fought that man because he said something…unbecoming of a knight. He would not tell us exactly what the man said” Sansa explained to the boys who had just arrived.</p>
<p>               “Well, you can tell Jon and I, we are men now” Robb said, puffing his chest out a bit. Jon also stood up straighter.</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “If you really want to know, maybe I could be convinced to tell you later, but you won’t be happy with it. Although, you will have to get used to men talking like that, I suppose.”</p>
<p>               “You are bleeding!” Sansa interrupted, her mouth agape as she stared at his midsection. Sandor felt a telltale sting and looked down to see blood sinking through his shirt.</p>
<p>               “Ah shit, my stitches must have ripped” Sandor said, staggering a bit. He started making his way towards the maester before he realized he was being followed by Stark children, who all had very concerned looks on their faces. Sandor shrugged and kept walking to the maester’s tower.</p>
<p>               He knocked on the door and was relieved to hear that the maester was back from his meal. Climbing the stairs to the maester’s rooms had made him lightheaded, and he knew that even more blood was coming out of his reopened wound. Maester Luwin opened the door, and tsked at him when he saw the blood coming through his shirt, having guessed what happened.</p>
<p>               “What did I say about not moving around too much so that the stitches could heal?”</p>
<p>               “It’s not his fault!” “He had to defend his honour! Or someone else’s, he would not really tell us what happened.” Sansa and Arya talked over each other, while the boys nodded along.</p>
<p>               Sandor sat down on the bed. “Well, I guess this means I can give you two lessons for longer now, if it is going to take me longer to recover from my stitches.”</p>
<p>               “Wait! You were giving the girls lessons? Like fighting lessons?” Robb said, looking confused.</p>
<p>               “How is that fair? I want lessons from him too!” Bran said, pouting.</p>
<p>               “I wouldn’t mind lessons either” Jon said from the back of the group.</p>
<p>               “Not fair? How is this for not fair, I am not allowed to have lessons at all usually! You can get lessons whenever you want!” Arya shouted at Bran.</p>
<p>               “Yeah, but not from a knight as fearsome as the Hound!” Bran shouted back.</p>
<p>               “He’s not a knight! I told you that already! You don’t listen, stupid!”</p>
<p>                “Alright, everyone out! I am going to have to redo these stiches” the maester said, shooing the children out and readying his supplies.</p>
<p>               Sandor laid down on the bed and closed his eyes, quickly losing consciousness from the blood loss.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               Sandor woke up to a light knocking on the door, and heard hushed voices speaking to each other. He sat up and called for them to come in, and Robb and Jon entered the room.</p>
<p>               “Father told us not to bother you, but we had a couple questions and figured you would not mind” Robb said, taking a seat near the bed. Jon sat down beside him.</p>
<p>               Sandor snorted. “That sounds exactly like what Arya said to me a few days ago, you Starks are more alike than you appear.”</p>
<p>               Jon laughed. “I have told Robb that on many occasions, and he does not believe me.”</p>
<p>               “I am not as stubborn as Arya is! Have you seen how she acts sometimes?”</p>
<p>               “It sounds to me like you are being stubborn about not being stubborn” Jon replied, a smirk on his face.  </p>
<p>               “So, what was it you wanted to ask me?”</p>
<p>               Robb blinked for a moment. “Oh, right! We wanted to know what the man said to you that made you snap like that.”</p>
<p>               Sandor sighed. “The cunt just compared me to my brother, and said some shit about wanting to rape women. I probably shouldn’t have reacted the way I did, those cunts are always saying shit like that.”</p>
<p>               Robb and Jon looked at each other. “Arya told us about your brother, it’s understandable that you would not want to be compared to him” Jon said with a nod of understanding.</p>
<p>               “It’s hard to believe your flesh and blood would do that to you” Robb said. “I can’t imagine hurting any of my family like that, even at their worst.”</p>
<p>               “The world is full of men who would hurt their friends and family for coin. They are everywhere, not just at the Wall. You boys need to remember that you have grown up relatively sheltered from the outside world. You may think you understand the dangers, but even people you think you can trust the most can easily betray you if it benefits them in the slightest” Sandor explained.</p>
<p>               Robb puffed up his chest. “We know there are dangerous men out there, we are not idiots. And we are not children, either.”</p>
<p>               “It’s not just the so-called dangerous men that you need to look out for though. They can appear to be trustworthy and then stab you directly in the back in the blink of an eye.”</p>
<p>               “Wait, what do you mean not just at the Wall. Obviously I know there are some people who go there because they are criminals, but its not like all of them are like that. The Night’s Watch is a brotherhood” Jon said.</p>
<p>               “I’m sorry to say this, but the Night’s Watch is in a really fucking bad state right now. It’s mostly murderers and rapists” Sandor said, expecting resistance from Jon.</p>
<p>               “You’re wrong. They are honourable men who are protecting us from that which lurks north of the wall. And soon, I will be one of them.”</p>
<p>               “I can see that I will have a hard time convincing you this. Why don’t you visit the Wall first? See what its truly like before signing your life away.”</p>
<p>               “That’s not a bad idea Jon” Robb said, elbowing his brother.</p>
<p>               “You’re only saying that because you want me to stay here. I need to go somewhere else, make a name for myself, and the Wall gives me a chance at that” Jon explained.</p>
<p>               Sandor suddenly had an idea. An idea that he would probably regret. But it could just work. Or it could backfire horribly. Oh well, why not? “Why don’t you just squire for someone?” Sandor asked Jon. “You know my opinion on knights, but it could be a good chance to make a name for yourself without being stuck in one place, not allowed to go anywhere or see your family and friends.”</p>
<p>               Jon’s shoulders slumped. “Father does not want me to. Besides, I would have to find someone willing to take me on.”</p>
<p>               “If only you were currently surrounded by southern knights” Sandor said sarcastically.</p>
<p>               “Fine, but that doesn’t fix my first problem. My father would never allow it.”</p>
<p>               “He would if a knight offered to take you on as a squire. Turning it down would be rude and would offend the house that the knight is from, especially one from a major house. How well can you fight?”</p>
<p>               “Well enough” Jon shrugged.</p>
<p>               Sandor nodded. “We’ll see how good you are once I can leave this cursed room. Maybe you two can spare for me, and if you are good a knight may take interest.”</p>
<p>               Jon looked confused. “I don’t know, I still want to join the Watch…”</p>
<p>               “Oh, come on Jon, let’s just do it! What is the worst that can happen? Nothing changes?” Robb said.</p>
<p>               Jon considered this, and then nodded. “Fair point. Okay, Clegane, once you are out of here, we will try your plan. I still doubt it’ll work though.”</p>
<p>               Sandor waved a hand in Jon’s direction. “Leave it to me, I’ll see what I can do.”</p>
<p>               The boys thanked him for answering their questions and left the room. Sandor laid back down and began to think deeply. He had some plotting to do.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>               Sandor was free to walk about the castle again, with new orders from the maester that he had to be even more careful not to rip his stiches again. Sandor had rolled his eyes when the maester urged caution if he wanted to get back to working for the Crown Prince. Like Sandor wanted that to happen. Maybe he could throw himself down a staircase and get out of being his shield for even longer.</p>
<p>               He had missed the last mealtime, so he headed towards the kitchen to see if he could scrounge up anything that was leftover. Luck was on his side, as he passed Marta who was just leaving the kitchen.</p>
<p>               “Oh, hi Sandor! Whatcha doing down here?” Marta said, smiling up at him.</p>
<p>               “I missed the last meal, so I figured I’d see if there was anything left in the kitchen.”</p>
<p>               “Don’t worry about that, I’ll put something together for you” she said, grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him into the kitchen. She directed him toward a table and chairs in the corner of the kitchen. “Sit. I know we have some leftover chicken here somewhere.”</p>
<p>               Marta brought over a plate overflowing with chicken, potatoes, and warmed bread, and sat down across from him. Sandor was almost drooling; chicken was truly the best food ever. “Thanks” he said, stuffing his face full of food.</p>
<p>               Marta just laughed at his antics, and the two started talking about trivial things. She was a nice girl, and it was a relief to have a break from his mission. This was the most plotting and planning he had ever had to do in his life. Lives? <em>Who fucking knows? Doesn’t really matter anyways</em> he thought to himself, as Marta argued that pies were in fact superior to cakes.</p>
<p>               “Lemon cakes are far better than any pies” a voice said beside them, and Sandor turned to see Sansa and Arya standing beside the table. Arya looked like her normal self, but Sansa looked almost upset with some reason, and stood with her arms crossed and eyes slightly squinted at the two of them. Or more precisely, at Marta.</p>
<p>               “I dunno, I’m always up for a good pie” Arya said, not picking up on the tension in her sister, but eyeing the bread left on Sandor’s plate. He stuffed the rest of it into his mouth before Arya could make a move to steal it, and Arya squinted at him before looking around the room for more bread.</p>
<p>               “Pies are great though; they can be a main course or a desert. Very versatile” Marta said, winking at Sandor.</p>
<p>               Sansa’s eyes narrowed further. “But cakes can be light and fluffy, or dense and heavy, making them ‘versatile’ too.”</p>
<p>               Arya shrugged, and stuffed some leftover bread she had found on a counter in her mouth. “Yes, exactly, both taste good. I don’t get the point of this conversation.”</p>
<p>               Marta smiled at Arya. “I agree. It was nice chatting with you, but I must get back to work. Bye Sandor!” she said, before curtseying and giving m’ladys to Sansa and Arya.</p>
<p>               Arya sat down where Marta had been sitting and began to bombard him with questions about training and fighting. Sansa was still looking in the direction that Marta had disappeared in, and he thought he heard her mutter to herself, “she calls him Sandor?”</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>               Sandor was making his way into the training area to initiate the new part of his plan. He didn’t have the most faith that it would actually work, but there was exactly zero harm in trying. He looked across the yard and saw that Jon and Robb were already in place, sparring and laughing all the while. He also saw both Jaime and Tyrion Lannister talking on the other side of the yard. <em>Perfect</em>, he thought to himself, mentally rubbing his hands together.</p>
<p>               He made his way over to the Lannister brothers, looking around the yard to note who was there. Ned Stark wasn’t present, which would make what he was about to do a lot easier.</p>
<p>               He greeted the brothers, then asked, “Have you talked to either of them?” while gesturing towards Jon and Robb.</p>
<p>               “Why?” Tyrion asked, looking curious.</p>
<p>               Sandor shrugged. “From what I have heard, it seems like Ned Stark is trying to hide his mistake at the Wall for the rest of his life. Seems fucking cruel to me, the boy did nothing to him except exist.”</p>
<p>               Jaime nodded in agreement. “Yeah, and he gets to stay <em>the honourable Ned Stark</em>. I actually did speak to the bastard once already. I asked him about going to the Wall because I thought he was going by choice, and I wanted to mock him for it. But it seems like he isn’t 100% sure he wants to go, its more because his honourable father is honourably forcing him to, and he has just tried to convince himself that he is fine with it.”</p>
<p>               “Wouldn’t it be funny if someone offered to take him on as a squire, and he went south with us? Dear old Ned would be quite upset that he couldn’t hide his indiscretion” Sandor said, hoping the bait would be enough.</p>
<p>               Jaime brightened. “Yes, it would show what a hypocrite he is. And it’s not like he could say no to whoever offers him a spot as a squire, it would be rude, especially if the knight is offering to take on a bastard.”</p>
<p>                “I would take him on just to see Lord Stark’s horrified face, but I’m not actually a knight.” Sandor said.</p>
<p>               Jaime waved him off. “I think I have an idea” he said, before walking over to where Jon and Robb were sparring. They looked surprised to see him, but then seemed to be practicing even harder.</p>
<p>               Tyrion turned to face Sandor. “What are you planning? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you hoped that Jaime would have that reaction.”</p>
<p>               Sandor shrugged. “Maybe I’m planning something. Maybe I thought it would be really funny to see Lord Stark react to it. Maybe it’s a bit of both.”</p>
<p>               Tyrion laughed. “Well, I for one am interested in seeing where this goes. Cheers, Clegane.” He said before walking over to where Jaime stood watching the boys spar.</p>
<p>               Sandor couldn’t believe that worked. Well, the first part of his plan worked. The first part of the first part of his side plan worked. Whatever, it was better than nothing. One could even argue it was tangible evidence that he was trying.</p>
<p>               Suddenly, a weight landed on Sandor’s back, and he lurched forward, away from the wall behind him.</p>
<p>               “Sorry! I’m sorry!” Bran Stark said, looking desperately at Sandor’s face for forgiveness. “I didn’t mean to! I must have slipped off the wall for some reason, which is weird, because I never slip!”</p>
<p>               Sandor’s stomach dropped, and he remembered that Bran Stark fell off a wall while climbing in his first life, and how he had become paralyzed because of it. That then led to this currently normal kid turning into a creepy bird man with no emotions. Sandor wasn’t sure where the boy ended up falling or what he had slipped on, but he figured he better nip this in the bud quick, just to be safe. “You know, knights don’t climb around like animals. If you want to be a knight one day, you are going to have to start acting like one.”</p>
<p>               Bran’s face fell further. “But I’m really good at it, I never slip, honest!”</p>
<p>               “Well you just did, so that kind of ruins your argument.” Sandor felt bad crushing the boy’s fun, but if it meant he could live a semi-normal life, it was worth it. “No knight would take on a squire who runs amok like that.”</p>
<p>               “See Bran, I was not lying to you. If you want to be a knight, you must stop it with the childish behaviour, including the climbing” Catelyn Stark said, coming up from behind Sandor.               </p>
<p>               Bran nodded and walked away sad, the way children do when they do not get there way, shoulders hunched and head hanging.</p>
<p>               “Thank you, Clegane.” Catelyn said, inclining her head to him. “I have been trying to get him to stop that for months, but he has not been listening to me. Having someone else besides his mother tell him seems to have helped. Now we will just have to see how long it lasts.” She shook her head while looking in Bran’s direction.</p>
<p>               “Lady Stark” Sandor said, bowing slightly, before walking away. It seemed like he was getting more Starks to trust him without even having to try. He wondered if it was luck, or if someone all knowing was helping him along. It was a weird thought, especially considering how unreligious of a man Sandor was. Although, Sandor couldn’t really call himself unreligious anymore, could he? <em>Then I would just be in denial</em>, Sandor snorted to himself.</p>
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